Summer Flu
by Montydragon
Summary: A mysterious virus sweeps through the town of Gravity Falls just as Dipper and Mabel return for the third time, and Dipper determined to find the cause. However, he doesn't count on getting sick himself. WenDip. Warning: Pointless.
1. Chapter 1

It all started the first day they were there.

The bus disappeared down the road in a cloud of exhaust, leaving a bad odor with the two twins it had dropped off. Mabel waved excitedly, while Dipper coughed and squinted after it with an annoyed expression. The sound faded into the distance, leaving the two fifteen year-olds alone on the street.

After a moment of silence, Dipper turned towards his sister. "Guess we should head towards the Shack," he mused, pulling his suitcase closer to him. "Grunkle Stan probably wants us to start sweeping the floor immediately."

"Aw, don't be so pessimistic, bro," Mabel replied with her ever-present smile. "Maybe he wants us to go down and get some candy from the corner store!"

"For some reason, I highly doubt that."

The twins hiked up the long dirt road that lead to the Mystery Shack. Nothing had changed since they visited last summer, or the summer before that, even. The woods stayed unchanged, the driveway stayed unpaved and the sun stayed relentless. Beads of sweat were running down the necks of both teens when they finally reached the top and the grand old house came into view.

Stan was standing outside, finishing up a tour. The tourists watched wide-eyed as he pulled out his incredible Sack Of Mystery, waving it about and explaining how money mysteriously vanished as soon as it entered it. Of course, the people seemed almost desperate to throw their cash inside to see if it worked.

"Come back soon, folks!" Stan called as the group walked away to the gift shop. He turned around and started to walk back inside when he spotted his grand niece and nephew huddling on the porch, sweaty and tired. "Well, look who it is! Where were you? You were supposed to be here three hours ago."

"There was a lot of traffic," Mabel explained, plopping her suitcase down on the porch. Her brother followed suit, knowing that their great uncle would make them bring their luggage inside later.

"Well, how do you guys feel about cleaning up the gift shop? I hope you want to, because you don't have much of a choice," Stan laughed, leaning on his cane. "I have to do another tour, and then I'm done. Maybe we can go out to the diner tomorrow if you guys are good." He watched as the last of the tourists entered the gift shop. "We're eating here tonight."

"Wait, are you serious about the diner?" Dipper asked, squinting. He wasn't sure whether or not his great uncle was joking with them. He didn't like going out to the place much ever since that episode involving Lazy Susan receiving his phone number, but maybe something had changed in the year they had been gone.

"Yeah, if you guys clean up that broken eyeball jar that fell off the counter yesterday," their great uncle answered. "I've put some toilet paper around it to keep the tourists away, but it's really starting to smell and Wendy's been conveniently asleep all day, so I can't make her do it."

"Why didn't you wake her up?" Mabel asked, cocking her head.

"She's been complaining about some crazy sickness or something going on, and that's she's catching it," Stan responded. "I'm already kind of stretching it by making her work."

With their answer, the twins made their way into the gift shop and past the large mob of tourists. Wendy, in fact, wasn't actually asleep, but looked as though she might be that way in a matter of seconds. Her eyes were dull and she seemed lifeless as she took the customer's money.

However, the teenager's eyes lit up slightly as she spotted the twins. "Dipper! Mabel! Get over here!" Hearing her loud call, the pair rushed up to the counter where they were met with tight hugs. Dipper blushed a bit and Mabel giggled as the older teen ruffled her hair. "Oh man, I've been so lonely here. I can't believe you dudes finally showed up!"

"Well, we're here now, so I guess we can, like, hang out or something?" Dipper smiled awkwardly, backing up a step or two when his friend finally released him. Wendy's giant grin faded slightly.

"Dude, I'd love to, but I gotta finish my shift first," she groaned. "Don't worry though, as soon as I'm done, we can hang out as much as we want."

"Oh, ok," Dipper answered, sounding a bit downcast. However, her latest statement had caused him to visibly brighten at the thought of spending time with his crush. Wendy flashed him a grin before turning her attention back to the tourists at the counter. Sighing slightly, the young detective turned around and went to find the jar of eyeballs that had been dropped.

As he was cleaning up the remains of the jar, he heard the pattering of footsteps on the wood floor behind him. Somebody tapped his shoulder, and he jumped a bit before realizing it was only Mabel. His twin wore a worried look, and she gazed anxiously around the shop. "Hey, Dipper, have you seen Soos?" she asked.

The young detective opened his mouth to reply, thinking intently. Well, of course he'd seen Soos; the guy practically lived at the Shack. But as he racked his brain he realized _no_, he really hadn't. He hadn't seen Soos around at all.

"Uh, no actually," he replied confusedly. "I have no idea where he went."

"Well, maybe Wendy has," Mabel mused hopefully. She hopped away from him towards the counter. Dipper finished cleaning up the eyeballs and followed his twin, finding himself equally curious. Soos was a good friend of his, and it was highly unusual that he wasn't here during the daylight hours. When they reached the counter, Mabel stretched herself up (despite the twin's massive growth spurts they still weren't nearly as tall as Wendy,) and asked, "Wendy, have you seen Soos?"

The lumberjack's eyes shifted a bit before a thought seemed to come to mind. "Oh, he went home sick," she responded. "There's a virus going around, and he got hit with it around lunch."

"Wait, it's so bad that Soos actually left?" Dipper questioned disbelievingly. "He never leaves work!"

"Oh no dude, it's really bad," Wendy mumbled. "Basically you get a headache that buzzes in your ears for hours on end, then you start to puke a bunch. When you're done puking, you kinda get laryngitis as well as a stuffed-up nose, and you stay that way for the rest of the time you have it." She shuddered. "Not to mention a fever, chills and weird dreams."

Dipper winced a bit, while Mabel's eyes widened with despair. "That's awful!" she cried. "Aw, poor Soos! We should go take care of him." As she ran for the door, however, a loud call from the cashier stopped her in her tracks.

"I won't do that if I were you, buddy!" the redhead warned. "He's probably puking up everything he's eaten for the past three days! Besides, the virus is super contagious." She sighed and slumped down on the counter. "Come to think of it, I probably have it too. You might not want to get too close to me."

"Well, I bet he isn't too sick to check his mailbox!" Mabel grinned, running over to one of the bins behind the counter and pulling out a tube of glitter and some construction paper. She set to work on making a Get Well card, completely shutting out any outside distractions in her frenzy to cheer up her sick friend. Dipper and Wendy looked over at her before turning back to face each other.

"Do you have a headache?" the young detective suddenly inquired. That would explain the redhead's dull eyes and obvious exhaustion. She seemed distinctly more… disconnected than usual, as well.

"Kind of," she mumbled back, rubbing her nose. She looked around the shop, seemingly pleased that the last of the tourists had left and let her eyes flutter shut. "Everything feels fuzzy."

"Maybe you should take the day off tomorrow," Dipper slowly suggested, setting into a sitting position on the counter. As he did this, he felt rather irked that Wendy remained taller than him, and she always seemed to find a way to show the fact off to him without actually saying anything. She stared up at his face with slightly bleary eyes and yawned.

"You know, maybe I should," she sighed. "My dad and brothers are camping, though, so I'll be all alone with a headache."

"I guess it's better than helping Grunkle Stan rip off people," the young detective remarked, though the sympathy for his friend was painfully evident in his voice. He didn't want Wendy to deal with an irritating virus on her own. He certainly wouldn't want to himself.

Wendy chuckled. "You're right," she smirked weakly. "Ok, I have ten minutes and then I can go." She slumped back onto the counter, her arm bumping against his leg as she sprawled the top half of her body out. The last of the tourists were leaving, and they watched the people exit lazily.

Five PM came all too soon for Dipper's taste. Honestly, he was excited about hanging out with Wendy until he found out that one, she was SUPER tired, and two, Mabel would most definitely be tagging along for every leg of whatever adventure they got into. With a sigh, he told his redheaded friend that she should probably be going home to get some rest and hopefully feel better the day after. She left without any objection.

Mabel soon came bouncing into the living room. "Dip, Stan's going to heat up some hamburgers!" she called, yelling directly into his face. With some distain, he wiped off the flecks of spit as his sister ran around the room in her huge floppy sweater. "He says you have to get in the kitchen or go hungry!"

Not wanting to miss out on dinner, the young detective followed his exuberant sister into the kitchen where Stan was busy watching three patties of meat in the microwave. "Took you long enough," he remarked as Dipper entered the room. The boy simply snorted and sat down at the table, watching out of the corner of his eye as the sun set behind the trees. He had forgotten how the sunsets in Gravity Falls looked. They were honestly beautiful.

The young detective ate his completely plain hamburger in silence, while Mabel coated hers in mustard, relish, ketchup, potato chips and who knows what else. Stan chewed his meat uncharacteristically quietly, staring at the two twins with intent. For a moment, as Dipper watched his great uncle, he thought he saw a flash of love in the old man's eyes, though he knew he must have imagined it.

"'S good to have you guys back, you know," Stan broke the silence before taking a huge bite of his burger. "Pretty quiet without a giant lizard trampling my parlor or whatever."

"Grunkle Stan, did you actually miss us?" Mabel asked with a slightly-mocking voice, her eyes widening. Dipper noticed a rather large smear of glitter on her nose, and wondered if it had come from her food. It didn't seem like it had, but one could never know around his sister.

"Wha? No, no, I didn't," the old man quickly dismissed, waving his hands. "Just, uh, kinda weird without you two cracking open conspiracies."

The young artist chose not to respond to this, instead taking a monstrous bite of her dinner and allowing her cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk's. She giggled as Dipper snorted at the sight. The overall anxiety of the day had been getting to him, and there was nothing like the power of Mabel to make him feel better.

Later that night, after the twins had brushed their teeth and showered, Dipper lay awake in his bed. He could already hear his sister's soft snores from across the room and watched as one of her feet twitched. Her hair was spread out like a massive furry halo.

_What would I do without Mabel_, he found himself wondering, staring off into space. _When I'm not in Gravity Falls, she's the only thing keeping me on the brink of sanity. And that's saying something, considering the fact I'm not so sure she's 100% sane herself_!

He sighed and rolled over, pulling the covers around him. Absentmindedly he debated with himself whether or not Wendy would come to work the next day. She hadn't seemed exactly healthy when she left, and if Soos had actually been ill enough to leave, then there was a good chance she was coming down with something as well. He hoped she was doing ok.

With a loud yawn and another turn, Dipper allowed himself to close his eyes and drift off into the peaceful realm of sleep.

When the young detective opened his eyes, everything seemed a little bit blurrier than usual. He rubbed his face, grumbling at the pale light shining in the window. It seemed to have gotten cloudy overnight, and he hoped it wouldn't rain. The woods got crazily muddy whenever that happened.

Suddenly he heard a yell. His eyes widened when he realized it was Mabel's. "Dipper! Dipper! HELP!"

Without a second thought, the boy leaped out of his bed in only a pair of sweatpants and an embarrassingly smelly shirt, racing downstairs. The shouts seemed to be coming from outside somewhere in the forest. Briefly amazed he had heard them, he found himself yelling, "Mabel? Mabel, I'm coming!"

Much to his discontent, it was raining outside. As he burst out the front door, the light drizzle made him narrow his eyes and shiver. It was strangely cold for rain at the beginning of summer, though he supposed it was normal further north. However, he didn't allow his thoughts to linger on rain. Mabel could be caught in a beartrap or hanging helpless from a tree that very moment!

He stumbled and crashed through the woods. Everything was slippery. Mabel's shouts were growing weaker and weaker, and he realized he was desperately hoping that she wasn't being dragged away by some great predator. The boy slipped and banged his chin on a fallen log, cursing loudly and biting back a sob of pain as tears came to his eyes. The mud was slicking his shirt to his body by now, and his hair clung to his scalp as though doused in glue.

Finally, Dipper burst out of the trees and found himself on one of the far edges of Gravity Falls lake. He blinked in horror as he spotted his sister frantically trying to keep afloat around a hundred or so feet out, spraying water everywhere in her efforts. "Dipper!" she cried. "There's something-" She didn't have the chance to finish her sentence before someone - or something - pulled her under the surface.

"Mabel!" Dipper screamed, trying to wade out despite knowing it was of no use. She was so far out that he would never get to her in time. He felt a flash of hope go through him as one hand appeared, splashing and groping around with fear before disappearing below the water again. Was she fighting back? Oh please oh please let her be fighting back.

Suddenly, a large red bubble floated to the surface. Dipper let out a panicked shriek as he realized the crimson beginning to stain the water was blood. No. No. She hadn't been fighting back at all. Whatever had gotten her was just toying, just trying to give her false-

"MABEL!" Dipper screamed as loud as he could, tears finally breaking free. His voice echoed, filling his mind with the terrified cry and causing everything to start pounding. The horror-filled plea to just see his sister one more time was consuming him, taking away what he knew and overwhelming him with hopelessness and dread.

With a gasp of air, Dipper's head shot up. It was still dark. His blankets lay in a tangled mess on the floor. The entire room was quiet, but for some reason he got the feeling he had just shouted his sister's name in real life. _A dream. It was only a dream_.

"D… Dipper?" The young detective jumped slightly as he saw movement from the other bed. Mabel raised her head, yawning so wide that Dipper could see the back of her throat. "Wha… What is it?"

"Nightmare," the boy managed, though his voice betrayed the fact it was far, far worse than that. Mabel seemed to sense that, and he could see the concern in her eyes even from across the room.

"You want a hug, bro?" she offered sleepily, raising an arm. His entire body shaking, Dipper nodded in reply and stumbled across the room. He didn't just want a hug, he needed one.

Mabel wrapped her arms around her quivering brother, resting a finger on his lips. "Shh, shh, it's ok," she whispered. "Whatever you saw… didn't happen. You're right here in Gravity Falls with me, and Grunkle Stan, and Wendy and Soos. We're here for ya."

"I know," Dipper croaked. He felt wretched. He hadn't been this scared in a long, long time.

"Why not you get some pleasant sleep now?" Mabel offered, stroking back his curly hair. "I'm sure things will seem much better in the morning."

Dipper nodded sleepily and stumbled back into his own bed, tugging his covers off the floor and around his body. His twin was probably right. Everything would be far better when he woke up, right? That's how sleep worked. It was logical.

Unfortunately, the next morning logic slapped Dipper in the face.

* * *

**A/N: Monty is BACK! Haha, sorry I wasn't able to post this earlier, guys. Just to confirm, this is a definite WenDip story, but it won't be completely centered around their romantic mushity-mush. It'll be more focused on the actual sickness, due to the fact I REALLY like writing "harmless" sick scenes. Dudes, you are in for the most pointless and awesome ride ever.**

**I can't give any definite dates or whatever for the next update, but I promise it won't be a super long time like with the second chapter of Dragon Pines. If there's actually a chance you like this story, then you can be expecting the second update soon enough. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

The weak sunlight was shining in through the windows when Dipper first awoke. Mabel was nowhere to be found, he soon realized. Her blankets were thrown back and pooled at the end of her bed, and the tell-tale scent of lip gloss had long since left the room. He wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved or scared. What if the dream was real?

He stretched and yawned, climbing out of bed and changing into his usual shorts, shirt and hat. The young detective was pretty sure his vest was hanging up by the door along with his shoes. With the locations of his other clothes in mind, he trotted out of the attic and down to the kitchen.

It was slightly later in the morning than he realized. The Shack was around twenty minutes away from opening, and Stan was off finding his pants while Mabel socialized with the early tourists. With some discontent, Dipper saw no sign of Soos. Hopefully his friend was ok.

After eating a banana as well as a few handfuls of crackers, the boy walked into the gift shop and took his usual seat on the barrel next to the counter. Wendy wasn't there yet, but that was far from unusual. To be truthful, she normally didn't arrive until around ten minutes after the first tour started. Dipper reclined as far as he could on the barrel and absentmindedly gazed out the window. Maybe he should do some chores in case Stan came in and saw him lazing around? No, bad idea. He would want to walk in and have an excuse to dish out some orders.

Dipper's haphazard thoughts were interrupted by the tinkling of the bell by the gift shop door. He looked up and spotted Wendy, but there was something… off. Something very off.

Wendy… well… she didn't _look_ like Wendy. Her hair was matted and her hat hung almost sideways on her head. Her skin was around 70 percent paler than usual, a frightening sight considering how whitish she normally was. She didn't walk into the shop, she stumbled and tripped over her own feet without looking up. But the biggest difference was her eyes.

If Dipper had thought her eyes looked dull the day before, that was absolutely nothing compared to what they looked like now. Her glassy green orbs were glazed over, her pupils dilated and whites bloodshot. Of course, he could barely see any of this due to the fact Wendy's eyes were almost completely closed.

"Uh… Wendy? Are you sick?" the boy asked as she flopped down onto the stool beside him, then immediately beat himself up on the inside for asking such a stupid question. Of _course_ she was sick. He hadn't seen her like this once in her life, but the few times Mabel had fallen ill she had shown many of the same symptoms.

"Nah, nah, just a… little tired… buddy…" Wendy mumbled, trying to comb back her hair with her fingers and failing spectacularly. She gave up and let her hand fall onto the counter like a piece of meat. "Rough night…"

"You look a little more than tired." Dipper had gotten off the barrel and was inspected his friend with both worry and slight surprise. It was quite something to see somebody he always viewed as super tough reduced to such a weak form, even if she was trying to hide it. He popped up and looked directly into Wendy's eyes. "Do you feel ok?"

"Head kinda hurts… and my stomach…" the lumberjack grumbled. "And my nose and a little my throat… maybe my-" She broke off and winced, clutching her midsection. "Ooh, that doesn't feel good."

"Maybe you should lie down," Dipper suggested. "I mean, I'm sure Stan would be ok with you on the couch for a little while. Mabel wouldn't mind being on register duty."

"I'll… just crash here…" Wendy decided, and preceded to carry out her decision. With a painful-sounding thud, she let her head fall to the counter on top of her arms and shut her eyes completely.

Dipper's eyes widened. This was dramatically out of character for a such a laid-back, easygoing kind of person. He'd at least expect her to crack some sort of joke or pun before deciding to take a nap in front of him. _She must be sicker than I thought. She caught this from Soos? Man, I hope the guy's ok if this is how Wendy's acting_.

His attention was swayed as Mabel bounced into the gift shop with a few tourists in tow, who immediately began to look at the merchandise with awe. The young detective's sister hopped in front of him. "Hey, bro bro. What's up with Wendy?"

"I'm pretty sure she's getting the same thing Soos has," Dipper replied uneasily. "I don't think I've seen her this sick ever."

"Well, I can keep an eye on the ol' register for her," the young artist cheerfully offered, sitting in the counter next to Wendy's slumped over form. "You know, make sure the tourists don't steal or whatever."

"Thanks, Mabel," Dipper smiled. He wasn't sure Wendy was even capable of moving to open the cash register. Absentmindedly he started to stroke back her incredibly messy hair before his sister gave him a weird look. _Oh. Right. Trying to keep your crazy little crush under control. Way to go, Dipper_.

"So, I was thinking we could call Soos today," Mabel put forward, sliding off the other end of the counter and looking at a pile of bumper stickers. "I mean, sure he can't come to work, but he can answer a phone, right?"

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Dipper admitted. He wished he had come up with that. Gosh, was he actually going to do anything productive today?

"Dipper, I'm like the master of good ideas," Mabel boasted in a comically deep voice, turning to face him. "It's just another one of my Mabel talents."

"Like being able to eat anything just by putting ketchup on it?" Dipper asked. He found himself recalling a scene from a few months ago when they had been left home alone. His sister had grown hungry and decided to eat an entire container of expired potato chips, covering them with ketchup to hide the truly disgusting flavor.

"Yup." Mabel grinned, obviously remembering the experience as well. Dipper privately decided not to remind her of the bad stomachache she had gotten afterwards.

A few more minutes of silence passed. Mabel handed out bumper stickers and sold a few pieces of merchandise, while Dipper rummaged around through a drawer underneath the counter and found a magazine that looked semi-interesting. Stan seemed to be having a grand old time giving bogus tours as always. However, there seemed to be a sense of loneliness coming over the Shack as the fact that the resident handyman wasn't there sank in.

Suddenly, Wendy's head shot up. "I gotta go to the bathroom," she barely managed before somehow managing to crawl over the counter and race through the Employees Only door. Dipper and Mabel looked at each other before the girl gestured after her.

"Go on, I can handle them myself," she smiled. "And hey, remember how sick she is before smooching her!"

"You're gross!" Dipper called over his shoulder as a form of reply, following his best friend into the house without another thought.

He found himself looking around a bit in the Shack hallway before he heard a loud retch from the bathroom near the door. With a small sigh of anxiety and relief, he turned around and approached the room. The door was already wide open. The young detective walked into the lavatory before recoiling at the awful stench of vomit.

Wendy was coughing and heaving whatever she had eaten for breakfast into the toilet bowl, gripping the side so hard that her knuckles were a perfect white. Dipper immediately felt a pang of sympathy as he realized she was completely tensed with discomfort. Despite the fact it was a rather warm day, she shivered violently as she threw up.

Not really knowing what else to do, Dipper gently knelt down and placed a hand on Wendy's back. The sick teenager didn't even look up. With his other hand he gathered up her long red hair and held it away from her face, intent on keeping her as comfortable as possible in her condition.

After a painful amount of time, the young detective realized that Wendy wasn't vomiting up anything anymore, despite her repeated retches and shaking body. Tucking her hair into the back of her shirt, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink. "Drink," he instructed his friend, placing a hand on the side of her head and guiding the cup to her mouth. The lumberjack took a few tentative sips before her eyes closed and she went limp.

A silence took hold of the bathroom very quickly. The young detective had been hearing the blood pound in his ears and his friend throwing up moments before, but now that she seemed to be ok, everything had gone quiet. He shifted from foot to foot a bit uncomfortably. The only noise he could hear was the redhead's ragged breathing.

"Sorry you had to see that." Dipper jumped a little as his friend gasped out the words. "I… I really didn't think I was that sick."

"It's fine," the boy managed in reply. He stroked her back a few more times, pure instinct having taken over. As she struggled to relax into a comfortable sitting position, he grabbed a washcloth from beneath the sink and helped her wipe the foul-smelling fluids from around her mouth. With her face clean, he let her hair fall around her shoulders once again. "You'd better head home," he added.

"Yeah… I'll like, infect the whole Shack if I stay here…" Wendy's voice rasped as she spoke. She offered him a very weak grin. "Heh, at least I won't get my brothers sick with them gone."

Dipper nodded while absentmindedly looking over her ashen face before his eyes widened. "Wait, we can't just send you home alone," he realized. "There's nobody to take care of you!"

"Relax, dude, I'll be ok," Wendy assured him quietly, squeezing his shoulder before coughing a bit. Dipper was not at all put at ease by this statement.

"But you're super sick! You have to stay still!" he exclaimed, the element of worry completely evident in his voice. The lumberjack's dull eyes opened a bit more as she heard the desperation in his cry.

"Well, where am I supposed to stay?" she asked. Finally deciding that her stomach had settled for the time being, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. The young detective kneeling beside her showed absolutely no reaction to his arm suddenly being pinned between the wood planks and his crush's back.

"Well… I guess you could stay here at the Shack," Dipper finally answered after a moment of consideration. "I mean, if we explain it to Stan, he'll let you sleep on the couch."

"Sounds good." Wendy shivered a bit and stumbled in an attempt to get up, pulling her body up the wall and finally making it onto two legs. Her younger friend watched the entire affair with anxious eyes, waiting to catch her if she were to slip. The gesture would have been cute if it weren't for the serious circumstances.

The two made their way back into the living room, with Wendy leaning on Dipper's shoulder and rubbing her slightly-crusty eyes. The scene was almost comical. The redhead was at least a foot taller than her friend still, and the resulting image looked almost as though she were flopped over on top of him. Dipper didn't seem to notice this though as he let his best friend collapse onto the large yellow armchair.

"I'm going to go get Mabel, ok?" the young detective asked. Wendy nodded and pulled her flannel tightly around her, squeezing her eyes shut with a sigh. Pangs of sympathy and worry filled the boy as he left the room and entered the gift shop, leaving his lumberjack friend to lie on the cushions alone.

Mabel was kneeling on the stool behind the counter, grinning and chatting up a storm with the amused customers. Even in the cloud of anxiety that surrounded him, Dipper found himself smiling weakly. There was nothing his sister liked better than a listening crowd. "Mabel!" he called. The young artist turned to face him, shooing away her audience with reassurances that she would be back.

"What's up, bro?" she asked, immediately becoming as serious as she could. "Is Wendy ok?"

"Wendy's sick," Dipper answered. "She can't go home because there's nobody to take care of her there. I was wondering if you could convince Stan to let her stay here until her family gets back."

"Don't you think that Wendy can take care of herself?" Mabel questioned, giving him a slightly-suspicious and slightly-scolding look. "I mean, she's got medicine and all, and she could easily make herself food if she's hungry. You're acting a little… protective, don't you think?" She grinned.

Dipper was swift to retort, his eyes widening and a small red tint appearing on his cheeks. "No, no, that's not what I meant!" he declared. "She's just super weak and sick and… you know… it might be nice to be taken care of!"

"Whatever you say, Dips," Mabel snorted. "Sure, I'll go talk to Grunkle Stan, but you have to take over register while I'm gone." She hopped out of her chair and said farewell to the few customers she had made friends with before heading towards the door. The boy watched her go, sliding into her stool almost sulkily. Briefly he wondered how Soos was holding up. The guy was probably fine. He had his grandma to take care of him, after all.

The day crawled by with the speed and grace of a banana slug. Dipper, zoned out beyond speech, completely forgot to eat lunch. Was this how Wendy felt everyday? He couldn't blame her for occasionally falling asleep, especially when the current wave of tourists departed and the shop was left completely empty. The only sound in the room was the tinny music coming out of the speakers near the ceiling and the buzz of the mosquitoes that had gotten into the shop. With an annoyed grunt, Dipper swatted away one that bit his arm.

Finally, after about two hours, the girl sauntered into the shop with a grin on her face. "Guess what?" she broadcasted loudly, scaring her brother out of the puddle of his own drool. "Stan said Wendy could stay as long as we're the ones taking care of her!"

"Great!" Dipper replied, feeling an incredible amount of relief. He had been worried the older man would insist on sending his best friend home alone. The young detective supposed he could find the time to visit every day, but it probably felt rather frightening to be alone in a house with nobody to take care of you when you were sick.

"Don't get too excited now, though, we still have to finish our shift," Mabel warned with a smile. "And you're stuck on register duty! Ha!"

Dipper sent her a glare and mumbled something under his breath about getting her back, but the goodnatured tone of his voice betrayed the fact he held no hard feelings for his sister. Mabel bounced around the room, looking over merchandise and occasionally darting out to slap stickers on things, commenting on how the sparkles complimented this and that. She was like a glitter-powered torpedo.

Finally, the clock chimed, signalling that Dipper could at last leave the wooden stool he had been crouched over for the past hour. The young detective let out a triumphant yell and got up only to fall flat on his face. In the massive time he had spent sitting on the hard surface, his butt had fallen asleep. His sister nearly choked with laughter as he got up, brushed himself off and headed out of the gift shop with as much dignity as he could muster.

The Shack was far quieter than the gift shop had been. The scratchy music that played from the speakers was gone, and even the mumble of tourists outside with his uncle was inaudible from the house. The young boy felt a small shiver go down his spine before he spotted his friend on the couch.

Wendy appeared to have fallen asleep in the three and a half hours he had been gone, and was curled up in a green and red ball on the yellow cushions. Dipper felt a massive sigh of relief take hold of him when he realized some of the color had returned to her face. Of course, she was still clearly unhealthy, but didn't look nearly as ill as she had after she threw up. He raced to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water before running back to the living room and placing it on the t-rex skull that served as a table. He would wake her up later.

The kitchen was completely deserted as well. The boy felt almost as though something had been gravely disconnected, with Soos not being in there grabbing a handful of crackers or a sandwich to eat. Everything in the Shack was too silent. He didn't like it.

The young detective rifled around through the cabinet for a few minutes before he found a few old granola bars. He was rather hungry after not eating any lunch, and nearly swallowed the food whole. With slight satisfaction at last, he headed back through the Shack on the hunt for his journal. There must be something he and his sister hadn't tracked down yet in there.

After dinner and a bath, (Stan inexplicably hadn't been able to take them out to the diner as he promised, but swore that he would do so tomorrow,) Dipper sat downstairs in front of the TV with a pile of books on one side and his summer reading list on the other. His great uncle had been incredibly annoyed when he realized with Wendy sleeping in the armchair, he wouldn't have the chance to pass out in front of the TV as he did almost every night, but he wasn't about to let the teenager sleep in his own room. The young detective honestly felt a little safer with his best friend snoring beside him, even if she had a fever and an upset stomach.

Mabel walked into the living room and looked down at her brother with a yawn. "Hey, bro, you've been down here reading for like an hour. You gonna come upstairs anytime soon?"

"Uh, yeah," Dipper replied distractedly, unwilling to let his eyes leave the current page of his book. "Just give me a few more minutes."

"Good to know." Mabel smiled down at the young detective before coughing loudly into her sweater sleeve. Dipper's head shot up, concentration broken almost instantly as he heard his sister cough a few more times, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Hey, you ok?" he asked.

Mabel took a deep breath, recomposing herself before looking down at him again with a weak grin. "Yeah, bro, just a tickle in my throat. It's gone now."

"Don't get sick," he joked. However, instead of laughing like he expected her to, his sister simply nodded before walking towards the stairs with a small wave and a quiet "goodnight". As she disappeared from view up the stairs, she slapped her leg presumably because of a mosquito with far less energy than usual.

Dipper narrowed his eyes with worry. If his sister was coming down with the virus, that would leave himself and his great uncle as the only healthy ones in the Shack. He wouldn't have anybody to hang out with.

Wendy mumbled something in her sleep and shifted in the chair behind him. The boy looked up to gaze at her with soft eyes. She looked so peaceful for once, her mouth slightly open and her usually-tense muscles completely relaxed. Her red hair, as incredibly messy as it was, fell across her face in a way he couldn't find more perfect. Even her face, which had been contorted with pain less than six hours ago, appeared completely beautiful in sleep.

Dipper snapped out of his reverie and mentally slapped himself. _Get a grip_.

He couldn't blame himself for daydreaming completely, he thought sluggishly as he relaxed and absentmindedly bookmarked the page he was on. It was getting pretty late. He could already see the glimmer of the moon through the trees out the window. A little doze wouldn't hurt now, would it? His sister would be ok alone for a night, and besides, it was around his bedtime anyway. The young detective yawned and allowed his eyelids to droop closed.

Sleeping on the carpet had never felt so inviting…

* * *

**A/N: Well, there we go! Chapter two! Man, Wendy's sick... this cannot end well...**

**I don't really have much to say this chapter, except that chapter three shouldn't take as long. I really appreciate people reading and reviewing, so thanks for that. You guys rock.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dipper wasn't sure whether he had opened his eyes or not. He had felt the muscles in his face shift and pull his eyelids away, but the scene remained completely unchanged. There was no transition, no difference between the endless black and the endless black.

Abruptly a dim light began to glimmer in from somewhere high up. It wasn't bright at all, but had a similar output to a badly made lightbulb. He blinked and tried to find the origin of the light, but there was nothing. It was just a slight change in color, a slightly lighter grey. Briefly, the young detective wondered if he had fallen into a dream with Bill before realizing there wasn't a senile triangle anywhere in sight.

The grey above him seemed to flicker, as though he were below the surface of a deep lake. He slowly inhaled, feeling rather pleased when his lungs were not flooded with water. That clearly wasn't an option, then.

His quick moment of triumph was ended as he heard a gasp and a choked sob from somewhere in the darkness. The boy blinked and looked around, not seeing the source of the noise immediately. However, he could feel his heart plummeting as his gaze fell upon a small, bloody form in the black, covered by a stained green flannel.

"Wendy?" he asked, taking a few steps and nearly stumbling onto his face. The ground seemed to be moving, pushing him away from the crying girl. Dipper felt a surge of anger and began to run towards her, his legs shaking. "Wendy!"

His foot caught on some uneven part of the floor and he fell. His arm flailed and brushed her shoulder. The girl made a choking noise and turned around, her slightly-cloudy green eyes flicking about in a disorienting manner.

"Who… who are you?" she whispered, quivering with fear. Dipper pulled himself off his stomach and felt his mouth open a bit as he looked at the girl who bore a striking resemblance to his best friend. However, she looked only to be about eleven or twelve, and her clothes were torn and spattered with dark crimson. The boy let out a small gasp as he saw that her leg was twisted and broken, curled underneath her as though she were trying to shield it.

"I… Wendy…" he breathed in shock, staring at her injury with undisguised terror. She let out a small sob and hid her head in her oversized flannel, her bloody hands leaving scarlet trails on the stoney floor. Dipper immediately felt pangs of regret, and he stooped down to comfort the younger girl. However, she did not react when he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Dipper, I… I can't see," she whispered, her voice barely audible. He didn't show any surprise when she said his name. Gently he lifted her chin out of her tattered clothing and eased her hand away from her eyes. She was right. Though her eyes hadn't appeared damaged at first, they were unfocused and so bloodshot that there was more red than white.

"Can you feel?" he asked, touching a hand to her forehead. It was deathly cold.

She whimpered and hid her eyes again, giving a tiny nod. He wondered if he was scaring her. Wendy had scared him a bit back when he was twelve years old before he found out just how friendly she actually was. How could such a strong girl bear such an appearance to the untidy, diminished form burying herself in her own arms?

Dipper slowly wrapped her up in a tender hug, not knowing what else he could do in this situation. She didn't even seem to notice he was there, her only sign being a squeak of pain as her leg was shifted. Her body was completely limp. It was almost as though she were already dead.

The young detective realized with dread that she wasn't breathing.

As slowly and subtly as he could, he pressed two fingers against her wrist and felt as hard as he could for a pulse. Her skin was like ice as he touched it. After a minute of concentration, he felt something inside him run cold as he came to the conclusion her heart wasn't beating, but she was somehow still alive. She was a sightless, helpless zombie.

He could have sworn he heard her whisper his name again as the light suddenly flashed too bright for his eyes.

_And now we return to our old man movie marathon with the classic, _Disheveled Canine...

Dipper shifted and groaned, feeling a raw ache in his head. What had just happened? He was certain that had been a dream, but it had felt so real… so horribly, horribly real…

"Dude, you ok?"

The young detective let out a terrified shriek of alarm before his eyes stopped to meet the anxious gaze of Wendy Corduroy's. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, and he suddenly felt hot all over. His older friend didn't seem that alarmed, but there was worry in her eyes all the same. "You don't look so good, buddy. Kinda look like you saw a ghost."

"You could say that," he gasped back, feeling his forehead and wiping off a sheen of sweat. "I… I had another bad dream…"

Wendy's eyes narrowed, and she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Heh, yeah." Her expression changed to a slightly embarrassed and slightly nervous one. "Didn't exactly sleep well myself."

As curious as Dipper was about what she meant, he felt immensely tired. It clearly was around two in the morning by what the TV was airing. He needed sleep. With a loud yawn he shut his eyes again and leaned back into the foot of the chair, not even bothering to try and make himself comfortable again. He could feel Wendy's hand gently brushing through his hair as he passed out once again.

**GF**

Dipper knew the instant he woke up that he would not be working that day.

As soon as his eyes opened, he felt an immense pain in the back of his head, as though he had hit it badly. His throat felt mildly dry and a bit raspy. A very soft buzzing commenced in his ears, and he let out a low groan of irritation. He wasn't going to get back to sleep, but he was clearly not ready to face the day.

The boy turned his head with a bit of effort and saw with a bit of a start that Wendy was no longer fast asleep in her chair. Instantly worry flooded through him, and he pulled himself roughly into a sitting position. Where was she? Was she ok? She's been so sick yesterday… oh man, he really hoped she was ok…

"Wendy?" he croaked, feeling a wave of embarrassment as his voice managed to crack and rasp at the same time. The feeble call was too quiet to even be heard from the next room, but Dipper let out an immense sigh of relief as his sister walked in. "Mabes, where's Wendy?"

"Oh, you're finally up!" she yelped, jumping a bit in surprise. "Uh, yeah, I think she went to get a glass of water. I saw her by the sink in the kitchen."

"Is she ok?" Dipper felt an inward pang of regret as soon as the words left his mouth, but he had to know. His friend had slept for at least sixteen hours yesterday, and that was abnormal for even somebody as lazy as Wendy when they were sick. Mabel snorted a bit at his question, but nodded.

"Yeah, bro, she's fine," his sister reassured. She squinted. "Hey, you don't look so good. I'm going to make you some soup."

"Not sure that's a good idea," the boy replied weakly, feeling his stomach cramp a bit at the very thought of food. However, it was clear the exuberant girl wasn't going to take no for an answer. She skipped back through the door, leaving Dipper alone in the living room.

He sighed and leaned back, wincing at his abdominal pain as well as the irritating headache. The young detective didn't exactly know why, but he wanted very much for Wendy to be in the room at the moment. He knew there was just something about her face would make him feel better.

Soon enough he heard the microwave beeping and his sister waltzed back in with a bowl of soup. "Drink up!" she encouraged, plopping the bowl into his lap. Dipper flinched as a bit of the liquid sloshed the sides, fearing that it would burn his legs if it spilled. Mabel, regardless of this thought, leaped to the ground beside him and dropped a spoon into the soup. "It'll make you healthier."

"Mabel, my stomach really doesn't feel so good," he tried to reason, but the young artist was already shaking her head.

"No, no, Dipper, that's just hunger. You barely had anything to eat last night, and being sick means burning a crap ton of calories. Besides, this'll warm up your sick old lungs in no time!"

"If you say so," he muttered, knowing that in no way, shape or form this could end well. The soup almost scalded his tongue as he gulped, fearing the worst for his throat. At least his sister had gotten the flavor right, but it was almost too hot to taste.

Perhaps three spoonfuls more and Dipper felt a warning pang from his midsection. "Uh oh," he murmured. Removing the soup from his lap and placing it on the floor as quickly as he could, the boy scrambled to his feet and made a break for the bathroom. He could hear his sister following him, but he didn't stop to think about her. As soon as he reached the toilet he unceremoniously allowed his stomach to release the soup as well as pretty much all of last night's dinner.

Honestly, Dipper hadn't been sick for quite a while. He had gotten a small cold the winter after he visited Gravity Falls, and technically he had a stuffed up nose the season after, but otherwise he was a normally healthy person. Therefore, he had pretty much forgotten how it really felt to throw up. Remembering was not pleasant.

Mabel sighed sadly as her brother shuddered and gasped. She held his shirt as far away from his mouth as possible and allowed him to finish. Finally, he slumped against the toilet bowl and shut his eyes, panting. His throat felt and tasted like a burnt rubber hose.

"Sorry about making you eat that soup," Mabel apologized quietly, grabbing him a tissue from the sink and shoving it into his hands. Gratefully he wiped his mouth off before tossing it in the garbage and letting himself slump to the floor.

"S'alright," he replied. "Can… uh… you help me get back to the living room?"

"Oh! Sure." Mabel quickly ducked under one of his arms and helped him onto his feet, guiding him back to his comfortable spot at the foot of the armchair and handing him a blanket. "I'm going to go eat breakfast, ok?" she asked. Sufficiently comfortable, her brother nodded. "Just don't be sick again while I'm gone." She grinned at him before skipping out of the room to get herself a bowl of cereal.

Dipper curled up on the fluffy carpeting with his blanket and looked at the staticky TV. He had to admit, he did feel a little bit better after throwing up. It didn't feel as though there were a heavy weight inside him anymore, despite the burn in his throat. He wished there were a glass or two of water handy.

He heard the floorboards creak by the staircase and ducked a bit as his great uncle walked into the room. "Oi, you're sick too?" the old man grumbled. "Gosh, how am I supposed to run a business when everybody's turned into an invalid?"

The young detective chose not to reply to this question, instead pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders and shrugging. He felt weirdly colder than usual. It was as though his insides were still warm, but his skin had decided to pepper itself with goosebumps.

Stan simply muttered to himself and walked into the kitchen, leaving the boy in silence once more apart from the sticky TV. Dipper sighed and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to move, but at the same time, he really, really didn't. It was a dilemma. _I haven't felt this lazy since my history project was due_.

Suddenly, the floorboards creaked again. Expecting to see Stan taking a shortcut back through the house to the gift shop, the young detective found himself pleasantly surprised when his redheaded crush appeared in the doorway with a large glass of water and a slightly-moldy quilt from somewhere upstairs. She scanned the room before spotting him lying on the carpet and smiled slightly, trotting down the stairs and to his side.

"Hey, buddy," Wendy rasped loudly, settling down next to the boy and tugging the quilt over her legs. "Mabel said you were sick. How're you feeling?"

"Like crap," he responded with a weak smile, wincing as his head flared briefly with pain. The lumberjack girl clucked her tongue sympathetically and offered him a corner of her quilt. Realizing just how cold he was, Dipper gratefully wrapped part of the blanket around his body along with the other one.

"You feel good enough to drink some water?" she asked after a moment of silence. Dipper chose not to answer for a few seconds or so before he nodded. To his surprise, Wendy didn't hand him the glass, but rather tilted his head back slightly with one hand and pressed the rim up to his mouth so he could drink. He swallowed a couple sips, fearful of disturbing his stomach, but he seemed ok for the time being.

Wendy withdrew the glass once he was satisfied and placed it on the dinosaur skull that served as a table before yawning loudly. "I can't believe Stan's not trying to make us work right now," she remarked, glancing him over. "I mean, sure I have a bullfrog in my throat and you were puking a few minutes ago, but he made me when I was sick two years ago."

"Maybe he's actually worried about us," Dipper suggested doubtfully. Wendy snorted before breaking off into a fit of coughing. Worried, the young detective placed a hand on her back, but she shooed him away once she was able to breathe. "Or, you know, maybe somebody threatened to tell the police."

"Sounds reasonable," the lumberjack responded, shivering and tugging the blanket around her further. The two fell silent for a few more minutes before Dipper curled up and shut his eyes, hoping to block out any source of pain by falling asleep.

"You know," Wendy began quietly, as to not irritate her friend, "It's really weird how this crazy virus got to everybody this quick. That's just not natural. Diseases don't work like that, even if they're airborne."

"In Gravity Falls they do," the young detective muttered from underneath the quilt.

The lumberjack sighed under her breath. "Well, I've lived here my whole life and nothing like this has ever happened," she mused. "I mean, I've seen ghosts and dragons and whatnot and never seen a magic virus. There's got to be some sort of explanation behind it."

Dipper raised his head, interested. "So you think there's some sort of supernatural thing controlling the sickness?"

Wendy shrugged. "It's possible. Hey, if you want to, I'll help you investigate it."

"That'd actually be awesome," the boy admitted, scratching the back of his neck shakily. With a small jerk he seemed to realize just how cold the air felt on his hot skin and withdrew his arm into the quilt, blushing as he accidentally elbowed Wendy in the stomach. She grinned lazily at him, clearly not caring much.

"Just take it easy until you feel a little better," she advised, stretching backwards so that her head was halfway into the cushion of the armchair. Dipper rearranged himself under the blanket until his head was somehow resting underneath his friend's raised arm. He absentmindedly looked down and noticed the lumberjack girl wasn't wearing her usual boots. Instead, orange and yellow socks poked out from underneath the thick quilt, one with a small hole on the toe. For some reason, the young detective found this oddly cute.

The pair listened as Mabel finished up her breakfast in the next room. The spoon clinked in the sink loudly along with the small chipping noise of the bowl and the running of water. Absentmindedly Dipper imagined his sister turning on the faucet and cleaning the bowl without soap. One of the bigger downsides to living with their great uncle was that he had little to no concern about kitchen hygiene. The boy didn't even want to think about the number of curly grey hairs he had found in his pancakes last summer when Stan promised to make breakfast for them.

The young detective almost laughed when he heard a soft snore from Wendy. She had fallen asleep in less than two minutes, and was now sprawled out backwards in such a way that it looked as though she had slid out of the armchair. Her lips were parted slightly, and Dipper could hear the air rumbling a bit in her chest with every breath she took.

Despite being sick and tired beyond belief, the boy could not describe how strangely safe he felt next to his equally-sick and exhausted friend. His tensed muscles had relaxed, and he became aware of the fact he could hear the lumberjack's heartbeat. It was incredibly reassuring, to listen to such a noise.

Briefly the image of the dream he had last night cropped up in the back of Dipper's mind, and he pushed it away quickly. His Wendy wasn't dead or horrendously injured. Every beat seemed to be a constant reminder of that, telling him over and over that she was ok and that he would be ok too.

With a soft sigh and a final shifting of body weight, the young detective allowed himself to snuggle up against Wendy's arm and closed his eyes. He was asleep in a moment.

* * *

**A/N: Poor anxious Dipper. A sickness that induces strange dreams will never end well for him. Or just a sickness at all. Kid has a delicate stomach.**

**Well, happy Friday everyone! I hope this update isn't too late for some people. The next one's probably not going to be done as fast as this one, but I should have it up in a reasonable amount of time. Also, if you have time, I've posted two new speedpaints on YouTube, and they're pretty nice if I do say so myself. If you feel inclined, please watch them!**


	4. Chapter 4

Soos called later that day. Dipper woke up a few times before then, the first time when Wendy turned over in her sleep and said something that sounded suspiciously like "Pine Trees." He had been almost been crushed by her weight, and slithered out from under her chest as soon as he regained consciousness. The second, he had been accidently stepped on by Mabel, and the third was when Stan tripped down the uneven third stair for the second time that morning and yelled a curse loud enough to awake even his redheaded friend.

When the phone rang, Dipper was jolted awake in seconds. Wiping away the large amount of drool on his chin and doing his best not to sit on Wendy as he stumbled into a standing position, he started to make his way to the receiver when Mabel beat him to it. She picked up the phone with lightning speed and clicked the answer button like a ninja.

"Hello?" she asked, twirling the cord around one finger as he brother walked unsteadily towards her. He heard somebody shifting behind him and saw that his lumberjack coworker had gotten up, too. She settling into a leaning-on-the-wall position beside him and gave a tremendous yawn.

If the phone's speaker hadn't been so loud, the pair not currently pressed up against the phone wouldn't have heard the voice on the other end at all. However, the machine was old and had an almost painful volume to anybody talking on it, and Soos's voice was incredibly clear even to Wendy and Dipper, who were standing a few feet away. "Oh, hey hambone!"

"Soos?" Mabel's eyebrows lifted in surprise and she stopped her incessant cord-twirling.

"Yeah, it's me! I wanted to call you because I thought you guys might be getting kinda mad I wasn't helping out." The voice on the other end faltered a bit at this statement, gaining an apologetic tone. "I'm really sorry, dudes, but I got like a mega fever and, you know, almost passed out. I don't think I would have been able to fix anything if I tried."

"Oh, you're not the only one to get hit with a case of the-" Mabel blew a raspberry with her tongue loudly, and the young detective could hear chuckling on the other end of the receiver. "Wendy's here right now, actually, because her dad isn't home and Dipper wanted to make sure she had a place to stay. Dorkus himself barfed this morning."

"Aw, poor Dipper," Soos sympathized. "Wendy, too. Hey, could you tell them I told them to get better?"

"Sure!" Mabel grinned. She turned towards the slightly-awkward two, and despite the fact they had clearly heard the request, she shouted, "Soos says you two have to get better!"

"Gotcha," Wendy whispered, while Dipper flashed a thumbs up. Mabel nodded to them before raising the phone back to her ear.

"They said they'll try," the young artist relayed back. "So, are you coming back to the Shack soon at all?"

"Uh, Abuelita says I have to wait until my fever's gone," the man-child responded. Dipper absentmindedly raised a hand to his forehead and felt the skin. It was rather warm, but not what he would consider serious at all. He turned to face the lumberjack girl behind him, who was touching her own flushed face in slight concern.

"You ok?" the boy whispered, reaching up to touch her forehead himself. It was definitely warmer than his. Despite her obvious anxiety, she nodded and quickly removed her fingers. However, she let his linger a bit longer before shooing them off when Dipper failed to.

While the sick pair had been investigating, Mabel had apparently continued to encourage Soos to return to the Shack. They perked up their ears and listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"...And she said they'd work, so, you know, I'll totally be back soon," came the reassuring tone. "Man, it sounds like you guys have your hands full over there."

"We do indeed," Mabel muttered. "Stan's been giving tours as far away from the Shack as possible. I haven't seen him since breakfast." She paused. "It's not like we really need him here, anyway, but I'd kinda feel better if he was helping take care of these two. They've been asleep all day."

"Hey, uh, Mabel?" Dipper broke in. She paused, holding a hand over the receiver, and cocked her head to show she was listening. "Could I have a turn talking to Soos?"

"Oh, sure!" she exclaimed. "Hey, Soos, do you want to talk to Dipper?"

"Totally!" the employee on the other end of the line agreed. Mabel smiled and held out the phone. The young detective took it and held it to his ear. "What's up, dude?"

"Heh, nothing much." Suddenly, Dipper felt uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. "Just got a little sick this morning."

"Same here, bro," Soos acknowledged. "Except I've just been coughing and stuff. I'm pretty lucky I didn't get that crazy laryngitis thing, because that makes you stop talking." The boy could almost imagine Soos narrowing his eyes on the other end. "Hey, hasn't Wendy been sick since like, yesterday?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Oh no, dude, I really hope she hasn't like, lost her voice. It's supposed to start a day after or something. Losing your voice is totally the worst." Soos sounded a bit downtrodden. "She isn't raspy, is she?"

Wendy gave Dipper a rather helpless look. A foot away from her, Dipper could still hear the occasionally rumble of air passing through her lungs. "She is," he replied hesitantly. "But I think she can handle losing her voice."

"Alright, dude." The employee on the other end sounded a bit worried. "Could I talk to her?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

Dipper held up the phone to Wendy, which she took quickly and stuffed under her thick red tresses to where he assumed her ear was. He had honestly never seen her hair in the morning before, and now he really knew the true meaning of _bedhead_. Her ear was nowhere to be seen underneath the fiery mass. "Hi, Soos," she mumbled. The young detective could have sworn her voice had grown even quieter since he'd spoken to her that morning.

"Hey, Wendy, you ok?" Soos asked. "Dude, I so hope you can still talk."

The lumberjack girl chuckled weakly. "And what am I doing right now?"

"Heh, good point. How's Dipper doing? Mabel said he threw up."

"He's doing a little better." A slight pink tint appeared on Wendy's cheeks, though it was barely visible in the dark of the living room. "He slept on the floor all day." She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, wiping her forehead. The boy beside her noticed that one of her yellow and orange socks was coming off.

"Well, that's good. Hey, I might come by tomorrow. Is that ok?"

"Yeah, Soos, that's ok." She yawned and rubbed her eyes a bit, touching her throat. "You want to talk to Mabel?"

"Uh, ok. Hand me over, dude."

Wendy reached out and handed the phone back to Mabel, who preceded to banter cleverly with Soos about Stan's work habits. Wendy stretched and sat down against the wall, Dipper flopping down beside her. The two watched as the younger boy's sister managed to keep a story going for around five minutes before Soos's grandma called him and he had to go.

"Sorry, guys. I'll see you tomorrow, 'k?" he asked, seeming now to finally realize he was completely audible to the entire room. Dipper nodded, despite the fact Soos couldn't see him. Mabel quickly assured him it was fine before bidding him a polite goodbye and placing the phone back down onto the receiver. She turned to her brother and friend with a big smile on her face.

"Man, I wish Soos could be here right now," she sighed. "How does Stan even run the Shack without us?"

"I guess he just does it the way he did before Soos started working here," Wendy mused, scratching her hat. "I mean, I know he was without a cashier at one point, so I'm really not that much of a loss, and I guess he doesn't need a handyman when nothing's broken."

"Huh. That's kinda weird. Man, Stan must really have his hands full," Dipper lightly sympathized. He groaned and leaned back. "So, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?"

The room fell silent. The lumberjack lying beside him shrugged and twitched a sock-covered foot. Mabel tapped her chin in thought before a huge grin set itself upon her face. "Oh my gosh, guys, we could build a pillow fort!"

"A pillow fort?" Wendy asked, her eyes widening a bit with surprise. Mabel nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, a pillow fort! Stan said we couldn't because we 'make a mess of the entire room' last year, but he's not here right now! And we're sick! He can't blame us!" The young artist was on a roll now, tapping her fingers with every reason she shot out. "Pillow forts are awesome! I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier! We totally have to!"

"Ok, ok," Dipper agreed. "Wendy, you up for this?"

"Am I?" she asked, giving him a wide grin before shoving him in the ribs. He laughed a bit before wincing as his stomach clenched, causing the redhead to quickly place a hand on his shoulder. As soon as she was reassured that he was ok, her smile returned and she hoisted herself to her feet. "Let's do this!"

However, the fact that Mabel Pines had neglected to mention was the rather important fact that there were almost no pillows in the entire house. There were two in their room, a few oddly scattered about on the bottom and second floor and one in Stan's room, (they dared not enter,) but that was it. After scrounging around for about fifteen minutes, the three gave up and decided to make it a blanket fort. This proved to be a successful decision.

Dipper and Mabel tugged the blankets off their beds and ran downstairs, placing them onto the ever-growing pile of sheets and quilts Wendy had found in a closet upstairs. They tracked down a few survival fleece blankets in the back of the gift shop, and found a picnic towel lying in the hallway downstairs. Satisfied with the goods, they started to design the fort.

Wendy quickly moved the TV so that they could place blankets over the top of Stan's armchair and weigh them down on top of it, creating a space in the soft shaggy carpet underneath that they could get into. Dipper grabbed a chair from the kitchen to prop up part of blankets and make an entranceway. Mabel, after a few brief apologies to her stuffed animals, took a few plushies from her bed downstairs to construct a wall of sorts in the middle. The entire affair took less than thirty minutes with all three helping.

When they were done, the group stood back and simply allowed themselves to gaze upon their handiwork. It was incredibly messy, but beautiful at the same time. The tangle of blankets stretched between the armchair and the TV looked almost like they were meant to be in the pattern they were currently clashed into, and the chair from the kitchen table didn't look nearly as awkward as the young detective who had put it there thought it would. Even so, they knew that what was on the outside was of no matter.

Slowly, Mabel sank to her knees and crawled into the fort. A shriek of delight rang out as she disappeared inside. "Guys, it's awesome! Get in here!"

Her two partners in crime looked at each other before nearly tripping over their own feet in haste to enter after the exuberant girl. Dipper coughed a bit and sat up once he was inside before his eyes widened.

Of course, it didn't look like much from the inside, but to Dipper, it was the best he could ask for. There was enough space for the three of them to lie down comfortably, and even a designated corner for Mabel's snacks. The two main areas were large enough for them all to pile into one if necessary. He heard the shifting of blankets behind him as his lumberjack friend entered and murmured under her breath, "Whoa…"

"We can camp out in here and wait for Stan to come in," Mabel grinned, reaching under the chair and pulling out three Nyarf guns. "And when he does, we'll hit him with these bad boys!"

"Sounds like fun," Wendy whispered. She closed her eyes and felt her throat before straightening up as much as she could in the fort and grabbing a gun. Dipper's sister reached out and handed the young detective his own gun before taking the final one for herself. Ready to fire, the three hunkered down in the most sheltered area in the fort and began to wait.

The wait, however, was extremely long.

Stan's tours didn't end until five in the afternoon, and they had finished making the fort at three thirty. The group sat in hiding, but they soon began to grow bored. It seemed as though the old conman would never make his appearance. They debated over whether or not to turn on the TV, to make some popcorn or to simply lie and groan while they stood by. It seemed that the latter was the best option.

Finally, they heard the creaking of floorboards and the grunting of the Pine's great uncle from the gift shop. All three tensed, their hands gripping the Nyarf guns and sweat beading on their foreheads. A particularly loud groan and cough sounded from just beside the stairs, followed by a yell of, "Kids? What did you do-"

Instantly the gang started to shoot at Stan's feet, causing him to yelp and hop back towards the stairs as fast as he could. Wendy managed to nail him right on the knee, while Mabel placed a good shot to the back of the shoe. The shriek of alarm the great uncle made was enough to send them into peals of laughter, completely giving away their position. "Kids! What do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "We got really bored!"

"Bored enough to move my TV halfway across the room?" It was clear the man was trying to come off as stern, but he was doing a terrible job. He lifted the top blanket off the fort, exposing the three to light and causing them to hiss. "Wendy, you too? Jeez, I thought you were older than that."

"Never too old to hang out with friends," Wendy croaked back in the most defiant voice she could muster with her limited volume, though her low-pitched chuckles nearly overwhelmed the speech. Dipper nodded earnestly while shoving his gun out of sight next to his sister. Their great uncle simply shook his head and drew himself up to full height.

"You're cleaning all this up," he announced, pulling the dart off his knee and tossing it into their fort. "Wendy, if you want to spend the night again, then I want to be able to actually see the couch."

"Got it, Mr. Pines," the redhead sobered up, holding up her hand in a mock salute. He simply nodded and left the room. A few quiet snickers filled the air when the three realized there was still a dart stuck on the back of his shoe.

Dipper turned towards his two cahorts. "That was awesome," he admitted, wiping off his sweaty brow. "We should probably take all this stuff upstairs, though."

"Agreed," Mabel nodded. She swiftly took up a pile of blankets in her arms and hobbled up the stairs. Her brother yawned and watched her scratch at a new mosquito bite on her arm before grabbing the picnic towel they had been using as a roof and walking downstairs to return it. A few minutes of blanket relocation and Wendy dragging the TV back to the designated spot and the little gang was done.

All three ate dinner that night, though the resident young detective was quite tentative at first. Wendy, on the other hand, looked starved. She dug into her meal like a desert wildcat. Mabel, however, seemed a little hesitant to consume her food. Dipper found himself once again plagued with worry that his sister was going to get sick.

Night soon fell over the sleepy mountain town. Mabel had long since taken a bath and fallen asleep on top of her bed, not even bothering to pull the sheets over herself. She snored louder than usual, irritating her brother, who was trying once again to trace back the cause of the illness in his notes. Briefly he wondered if it would be quieter to go downstairs and sleep on the rug again next to Wendy.

It was all very confusing, he decided. People in town who had gotten the sickness at the same time were strangely never quite near each other, so it seemed rather unlikely that it was airborne, but the amount of people struck down with it in just the past day made it seem as though it couldn't be touch, either. He barely made contact with any of the people in Gravity Falls and had gotten it in a matter of hours. The entire affair was incredibly curious, strange beyond belief…

"Hey, buddy."

The almost inaudible croak from the stairs nearly scared Dipper out of his skin. He turned to face his visitor and blushed a deep crimson when he saw it was his redheaded co worker. She looked over at his notes with an expression of lazy interest. "How's the research going?"

"Um, ok, I guess," the young detective stammered. "Uh, Wendy, you really don't sound so good."

She sighed, and he winced as he heard the air rasp within her lungs. "I'll be ok, Dip," she murmured. "But seriously, you have any luck?"

"Kinda," he whispered, shifting a little as Wendy walked across the room and settled down on the bed beside him. "It's really weird though, because I don't think it's spread by air or contact. That doesn't really leave many options, though. Maybe it's spread by water? There could be something wrong with the water supply, but that's not exactly likely…"

"Huh, that is kinda strange," Wendy coughed. She took a deep breath and leaned against his wall. "Are you feeling ok? You should really get some rest tonight."

"I know," he nodded, feeling a bit more heat enter his cheeks as her warm hand gripped his awkwardly sweaty one. "I feel sorta headachey."

"Know how that feels, dude." For the first time since the fort fiasco, Wendy cracked a weak smile and squeezed his shoulder. Dipper nodded in acknowledgement and closed his eyes, wishing he could solve this. It was almost driving him crazy, not knowing why or how such a disease existed.

"I hope you, uh, sleep well too," the boy whispered.

"I'll try," she spoke under her breath, slowly getting up off his mattress. As she stood up, Dipper couldn't help but feel a slight pang of loneliness. His sister didn't look as though she was going to wake up anytime soon, and he knew all too well that there was a large chance of having another crazy nightmare tonight. However, as he mentally prepared himself for another bout of silence, he suddenly felt pressure on either side of him and opened his eyes.

Wendy had wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight but gentle hug. Butterflies fluttered about in his chest as he felt her bury her nose into his shoulder. With slight hesitation, he reciprocated the gesture and sighed. She was soft and warm.

Soon, the flushed redhead let go of her younger friend. "Sleep well, Dipper," she whispered, walking towards the doorway. He nodded, almost in shock. He missed the feeling of her arms immediately.

As soon as his friend had left, the young detective cleared the papers from his bed and settled down underneath the sheets only. He felt uncomfortably hot. The fever must be kicking in. Touching a hand to his warm forehead he yawned and tried to stretch himself into the coldest places of the bed. Sleep overtook him after just a few minutes of feverish relaxation.

* * *

**A/N: Whoo, chapter four! Not actually sure what I'm going to do for chapter five… If anybody has ideas, please put them in your review. Ahem. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

Darkness had fallen around an endless white cloak in the air. A grey mist surrounded the boy, suddenly so much smaller than he remembered being when he had fallen asleep. The air was stagnant and stuffy, and burned his nose like odorless smoke. He coughed, feeling his eyes water in pain.

There wasn't a light this time. Somehow, he was able to see, but only for a few feet. He was in a stinging misty void. The grey air curled around his ankles and swirled about his body, creating a curious hot-and-cold sensation wherever it touched his skin. Slowly, he started to panic when he realized he was losing his sense of touch.

The air was getting darker and darker, taking on almost a red hue. Dipper tried to scream, flailing his numbing arms feebly as the smoke closed over his head. He felt his nose starting to flare with agonizing-

"DUDES!"

With a burst of energy and sweat, the young detective's eyes snapped open. He looked around frantically, almost giving himself whiplash. Mabel, her face as white as a sheet, was staring at him with the same panicked expression. They couldn't see Soos anywhere, but they had heard his voice as clear as day.

"Dudes, are you up? Oh man, maybe I shouldn't have come in the middle of the night…"

Still scared stiff from the dream, Dipper's pants echoed through the room as he flung himself out of bed and onto the floor. He heard his sister follow far more slowly, tiptoeing where he had stomped and tumbled. Together, the teenaged twins crept downstairs.

Wendy was already sitting up on the chair, her eyes wide and her finger pointed towards the door. When she saw the pair, she let out a quiet sigh of relief and pulled herself off the cushions that created her makeshift bed. Dipper immediately felt safer as the rather tired lumberjack joined their group. The three walked to the door as softly as they could with the creaky floorboards before throwing it open.

Soos stood outside in his normal Mystery Shack clothing with a large fleecy blanket over his shoulders. Upon seeing his awkward little gang, his face lit up. Mabel, being in front, was the first to almost get crushed in a tremendous bear hug from the big guy.

"Hambone, oh my gosh, I haven't seen you in like forever!" he cried, lifting her completely off her feet and into the air. The young artist gave a weak smile and squeezed back before it came to her and her brother's attention that her face was going an interesting shade of blue. Her older co worker placed her down delicately before he managed to get his arms around Dipper, who of course didn't quite tolerate it as long.

"Soos, heh, what are you doing here at 12:45 AM?" Dipper asked, patting him gently on the shoulder. Soos put him down before scratching the still-small amount of stubble on his chin and losing focus in his eyes for a second. He opened his mouth as though to answer before Wendy got in the line of fire and was hoisted up in a tight embrace. As much as he wanted a response, Dipper had to laugh at his slightly-squished friend.

Setting Wendy back on her feet carefully, Soos arranged his hat straight on his head. "Oh, Abuelita said I was healthy enough to see you dudes," he replied. "I'm actually, like, on a bunch of caffeine right now, because apparently fizzy stuff helps your stomach, and I drank like five Pitt Colas before I decided I should come see you guys. You know, because you said I could come whenever and stuff…" He trailed off, looking apologetic. "I probably should have waited until morning."

"Nah, Soos, it's fine," Mabel waved off, giving him a remarkably reassuring grin for somebody who looked like a zombie. "Though I'm pretty impressed that Stan hasn't woken up yet…"

"He took two sleeping pills so that we wouldn't snore him awake," Dipper declared in a raspy voice. His cheeks went a light red as he heard the sorry state of his speech, but nobody else seemed to notice. Mabel nodded, presumably seeing some sort of logic to this decision, while Wendy drew a blank and shrugged.

"Well, good I didn't wake him up then," Soos decided. "Uh, you want me to go home…?"

"No, you're already here, so you should stay," Dipper sighed in a low tone. "We don't really have any beds, though."

"Oh no, that's ok, I can sleep on the carpet," Soos quickly assured him. "I mean, it's so soft. Who wouldn't want to fall asleep there?"

"Dipper fell asleep there yesterday morning," Mabel snorted mischievously. "With Wendy."

"Wait, really?" Soos asked, raising an eyebrow. The younger boy quickly went a shade of deep cherry, shaking his head as convincingly as he could while knowing it was a lost cause. Wendy looked too tired to care about anything Mabel was trying to turn into gossip. However, the employee looking down at the embarrassed twin seemed to drop it as soon as he saw how delicate the subject was. "Well, all the more comfortable, I guess. Wendy, you mind me sleeping there for a night?"

The lumberjack shook her head, opening her mouth briefly before gaining an almost sheepish look and closing it again. Mabel grinned bigger and lead Soos into the house to the carpet, where he started to make himself at home with his fleece blanket. While his sister and friend made small talk, Dipper turned to Wendy with a slightly blank expression.

"You lost your voice," he commented. It wasn't really a question, just a strangely quiet statement. His best friend looked around before giving him a small nod and closing her eyes. She looked up in surprise as he gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, um, you'll get it back soon," he tentatively encouraged.

With a small smile, the lumberjack girl bent down so that she was at his height and gave him a tight squeeze around the shoulders. Dipper's blush grew as her cheek brushed his briefly before she pulled herself back up to full height and headed inside the house. Recovering from the encounter, he got up and followed.

As soon as his two friends were settled down in the living room, Dipper climbed the stairs back up to the attic and hopped back into bed. Mabel appeared soon after, her slightly-sunken eyes betraying just how tired she was. With a soft moan, she clambered into bed across the room and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Mabel, you feeling ok?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her obvious discomfort. She opened an eye and turned her head towards him.

"Not really," she mumbled. "My stomach's being weird."

_Crap_, Dipper thought to himself. _First Soos, then me and Wendy, now my sister!_

"Well, we'll see how you feel in the morning," he whispered back hesitantly before flashing her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It must have been close enough, because Mabel's eyes brightened for just a moment and she saluted weakly before letting her eyes fall shut again.

Seeing that his roommate was taken care of, Dipper relaxed into his mattress the best he could and sighed. He had already started a nightmare that night. If he fell asleep again, would it come back, or would he be free of the unconscious plague? However, it didn't seem as though this were a choice. Before he knew it, his eyes were dragging themselves shut and he was once again under the spell of sleep.

A soft tapping noise filled the dark.

Dipper groaned and rolled over, waving a hand slowly in the air. The light shining in through the window hit his eyelids and he cursed under his breath, prying them open. The door was closed. His sister was nowhere to be found.

Briefly proud that he had eluded another bad dream, the young detective pulled himself out of bed and stumbled to the door. When it swung open, Soos stood there looking a little anxious.

"Mabel got sick," he burst out, as though it were a terrible secret. "She came downstairs, and she threw up, and Wendy's taking care of her, and she should be ok."

Still waking up, Dipper blinked slowly and let his head fall to one side. He raised a hand to his face and scratched his chin. "Really?" he questioned, rubbing an eye and attempting to stand straighter.

Soos looked incredibly apologetic. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Dude, I'm sorry. If I had a sister, I'd totally be freaked out right now."

Dipper chuckled quietly and pulled himself up to full height. "Mabel's a fighter," he assured his friend with a smile. "She can take care of herself. I've seen her sick before, you know."

"Uh, yeah. Heh, probably should have known that." The man nodded vigorously. "You know, since you live together and all. Hey, you want some breakfast? Wendy's super hungry for some reason, so there might not be any pancakes left, but I think she left a banana."

"Yeah, a little hungry," Dipper considered. He narrowed his eyes in concentration. He had thought of something last night, just before he went to sleep. It was an idea of some kind, and he was so close to remembering…

"Wait!" he suddenly called down, running to the doorway. Soos, on the staircase, turned around curiously.

"Yeah, dude?"

"Do you feel ok with going on an animal hunt today?" Dipper asked. "I had an idea last night about the sickness, and I think we can trace it."

"Uh, sure!" Soos called back. "I'll ask Wendy if she wants to come, too."

"Ok," the young detective agreed. He quickly retreated into his room, threw on his normal shorts, t-shirt and hat and barrelled down the stairs to find his friends.

Wendy was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of orange juice. She had clearly already eaten by the plate of crumbs in front of her. Stan was still nowhere to be found. Soos stood over by the refrigerator, going through a few items that looked as though they should have been thrown out weeks ago and occasionally sniffing something that looked edible.

"I have an idea," Dipper announced as he walked into the room, causing the others to look up. "I think the virus is spread by an animal."

There was silence in the kitchen. Soos looked at him as though to say, _go on_, while Wendy gave him an intent gaze and took a large gulp of juice. Feeling a bit self-conscious, Dipper continued, "And I thought that if we look around town a little, we could find out which one it is by what appears where. I mean, we don't know unless we look, right?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Soos contemplated. He closed the fridge door and settled down opposite to Wendy at the table. The young detective sat down between them, looking over at his redheaded friend, who nodded eagerly. "So, when do we leave?"

"I was actually thinking of whenever you guys finished breakfast," Dipper admitted. "Um, is there anything I can eat?"

Wendy got up from the table and walked over to the counter, pulling a pair of bread slices from the toaster and setting them down in front of him. She gestured at the butter across the table before plopping down in her chair again. "Thanks," he smiled, picking up a piece and taking a bite.

"Well, I'm ready to leave as soon as you are," Soos said. He stretched a slightly-fatty arm and yawned, blinking up at the ceiling. "Wendy?"

The lumberjack girl opened her mouth and made an interesting rasping noise before blushing deep red and closing it again. Visibly frustrated, she shrugged and glared at the table briefly before looking to the window, the doorway and finally to Dipper. The agitation left her eyes, and she gestured towards the living room entrance. He polished off his slice of toast.

"What?"

Wendy pointed to the entrance again before giving him a meaningful look. Realizing what she meant, Dipper jolted a little and stuffed his other slice of toast into his mouth. As soon as he had swallowed, he nodded, a little embarrassed. "Uh, yeah, guess I should talk to Mabel."

"Dude, it's like you two have a telepathic connection," Soos marveled. Dipper gave him an absentminded nod before getting up and going into the living room to find his sister.

Mabel was lying on the couch with her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly and hands rested on her chest. Dipper sighed when he saw that she had taken off her sweater and let it rest on the ground. _Another feverish person in the house, and it's my sister_.

"Hey, Mabel," he greeted quietly, in case she was trying to rest. She raised her head, blinking blearily and giving a small yawn.

"Hey, Dips."

"You feeling ok?" he asked, walking over to the couch and settling down near her feet. She considered his question for a moment.

"I'm fine, bro," she finally responded. "Just a little queasy."

"Well, we're going to go try to hunt down the animal spreading the disease," he informed her. "We wondered if you wanted to come, but since you're sick-"

"No, no, I'll stay here," Mabel broke in, waving a hand in the air loftily. "You know, recover and all that junk…"

"Well, I… I hope you feel better," he said hesitantly. Mabel nodded and shut her eyes again. Feeling rather anxious about his sister's condition, Dipper left the room as quietly as he could and re-entered the kitchen. Soos and Wendy looked ready to go, standing alert and at attention by the doorway. "You guys ready?"

"Totally, dude," Soos grinned, pulling his hat back. Wendy flashed Dipper a thumbs up and cracked her knuckles.

"Then let's go."

The sickly parade left the house, walking down the dusty road towards town. The sun wasn't hot yet, but the air was incredibly humid and stuffy. Dipper wished they could just go up and sit in the neighboring mountains, where the atmosphere wasn't quite as wet or warm. He clearly wasn't the only one who disliked the weather, though. Wendy had taken off her furry hat and was wiping her brow, while Soos's collar was becoming rather damp from sweat.

Soon, they reached the outskirts of town. A few people were out and about, carrying coffee and walking dogs. The three stopped at the first road, and realized that they had pretty much no plan.

"Ok, so I guess we should just keep our eyes out for animals around town," Dipper quickly decided, scanning the sidewalks. "That shouldn't be too hard, right?"

"Yeah, dude!" Soos encouraged. "Hey, do you want to go the diner for lunch if we don't find anything? I haven't been there in like, forever."

Wendy nodded eagerly, licking her lips and clearly all for it. "Sure," Dipper responded.

The start of the search was uneventful. The temperature was increasing dramatically in heat, and the few residents of the town that were walking outside soon sought out the cool and dry of the indoors. The young detective leading the expedition felt tired almost immediately. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to go out when he and his companions were sick. He could already feel his lungs growing raspy.

Suddenly, Wendy started waving her arms and pointing towards an alley, an excited look on her face. The redhead took off running. Soos gave a cry of slight discomfort, not wanting to chase after his fellow employee in the ludicrously wet heat, but Dipper found himself speeding after her in an instant. She had spotted something suspicious.

The three rounded the corner of the alley and adjusted to the shadow just in time to see a bald tail whipping out of sight behind a trash bag. "Rat!" he choked out breathlessly. With a bit of embarrassment, he realized he was somehow even more out of shape than he had been a few days ago. Skidding to a halt, he leaned against the side of the building. Soos joined him, panting, while Wendy sat down, exhausted.

"Dude, it can't be a rat, I haven't been near one for months," the man child groaned. "And I was like, the first one to get sick."

Dipper cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great. Just… great." He let out a deep breath and glared at the ground. "Still have half the town to search."

The trio walked out of the alley and continued down the sidewalk. By eleven, they had had no luck in finding any eligible creatures. Pigeons, giant bats and cockroaches had all been considered, and they still couldn't find any possible disease vessels.

"Maybe I was wrong about it being spread by animals," Dipper finally sighed, wiping his forehead and sighing with disappointment. "Maybe we should just… go home."

"Aw, not yet, man," Soos whimpered. "We still have to go to the diner!" Wendy looked at him with intense concentration, as though trying to reinforce the point.

"Yeah, sure," the young detective submitted. "Just… I'm really sorry about dragging you guys out here. I guess being sick really does mess with your mind."

He was almost knocked over as Wendy placed a hand heavily on his back. He stared up at her face as she shook her head, squeezing his shoulder. He could see a mixture of reassurance, and beneath that, anxiety in her eyes. She moved her lips, and despite the lack of sound, Dipper could see she was saying, "It's ok."

Dipper smiled at her, feeling a tiny bit of warmth erupt through his chest. "Thanks," he murmured back.

The three walked back to the Mystery Shack, worn out. Soos had parked his pickup truck right at the entrance, and the group hopped it. In just a few minutes, Soos drove them all to the diner, where they sat down and ordered hamburgers.

As the three dug into their food, Soos swallowed and stopped to contemplate. "Hey, dude, how do you think Mabel's holding up?"

Dipper shrugged and poised himself to take another bite. "Oh, she's probably fast asleep. Whenever she gets sick, she pretty much sleeps it off."

Wendy nodded to his statement meaningfully, saluting and licking a crumb off her lips. Soos stared out the window. Dipper looked up with a bit of concern. "You ok, man?"

Soos bobbed his head a little in response, still lost in thought. "I was just wondering, how could the sickness get around if it's not by animals or whatever? I mean, it's not like there's that many options left."

The young detective put down the remains of his burger and thought for a moment. "I don't know, but man, I hope we find out…"

* * *

**A/N: Ok, guys, sorry again for the long wait. I had my birthday last week, and I spent it with my dad's side of the family, so I didn't get too much time to write. Hope this update was up to standards. Speaking of updates, the next one will be the last chapter of this story, so... Yeah, hope you guys enjoyed this pointless little thing! Now I can get back to other stuff.**

**Speaking of that, I have a more serious story planned for next time... It involves death, so I guess you should be a little prepared for that. Still, no M-rated stuff. Hope to see ya'll next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

After lunch, the trio left the diner and headed to the Mystery Shack. Much to his discomfort, Dipper's voice had grown slightly quieter when they were out on their patrol. He knew he would probably wake up barely able to talk the next day.

The hot afternoon whizzed by quickly. The three healthy enough to stay in the gift shop did so. Soos fixed up the leaky sink in the bathroom, Wendy lazily managed to sell merchandise without speaking, and Dipper sat boredly on the barrel next to the counter reading his book and watching his redheaded friend out of the corner of his eye. The sunlight shining in the windows caught her hair in an interesting way, and he found himself fascinated at how it still remained shimmery despite her not washing it for a few days. _Man, maybe we should tell her it's ok if she wants to shower here_.

As soon as it started to get dark outside, Soos yawned and stretched. "Ok, dudes, I'm heading home! Abuelita says she has to take care of me while I recover!"

"See ya, Soos!"

"Yeah, see ya!"

Wendy nodded in his direction and waved. He grinned and waved back to the three sitting on the couch before closing the door. The trio heard his truck start before the noise of gravel crunching and tires indicated that he had left.

"Man, I wish he could stay and keep us company," Mabel yawned before closing her eyes. "It's like an infirmary over here!"

"Hey, that's not-" Dipper broke off to cough, his eyes watering and his voice raspy. Mabel raised an eyebrow. Wendy reached over and patted her friend on the back. As soon as he regained the ability to speak, he gave her a quick smile while trying to look as dignified as possible. "Ok, so maybe it is a little like that."

Mabel nodded superiorly and snuggled down in the small nest of sweaters she had made on the couch to keep Wendy properly bedded. "I'm always right, bro. Hey, I'm going to go hit the sack. You going to stay down here and do nerd research or go to sleep?"

"It's not nerd research, and yes, I'm staying here for another few minutes or so." Dipper stuck his nose back into the book on Oregon wildlife he was reading. "I'm going to find this disease vessel if I have to deal with the flu for the rest of the summer!"

Mabel shrugged and got up off the couch, wrapping her arms around her brother in a quick hug. "Well, go to sleep at some point," she advised, squeezing tightly before letting go and heading up the stairs. "Goodnight!"

"'Night," Dipper called back. He relaxed a bit and allowed his eyes to drift back where he had been. Cougars? Hawks? He had been somewhere in the predatory section…

Wendy coughed a bit and leaned against his shoulder, reading the book as well. Dipper looked up only briefly before allowing his concentration to journey elsewhere, but it seemed that the redhead had other plans. He looked up with a confused look on his face as she tapped his shoulder, mouthing something inaudible. "What was that?"

A swift expression of frustration flashed across the lumberjack's face before she sighed. He perked up his ears and heard her whisper, "Mabel's right. You should get some sleep, dude."

Dipper felt confused for a moment. His best friend was almost always about staying up late and doing stuff, but even she looked tired tonight. After a moment of consideration, he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, maybe you're right. My throat doesn't feel so good."

Wendy cast him a sympathetic look before rotating her body and giving him a hug. "Get well soon, buddy," she murmured. Dipper was glad that the sun had gone down, so that his friend couldn't see the magnificent shade of crimson his face was going. He embraced her back before letting go and getting up off the couch, book in hand. As he left the room, he waved goodnight. His heart did flips as she grinned gratefully and waved back.

As soon as he reached his room, Mabel raised her head. "Finally decided to come up and actually fall asleep, huh?" she asked, snorting.

"Be quiet," he mumbled back. Dipper flopped into his own bed and closed his eyes, not even thinking about what dream may be impending.

This time, everything was green.

Dipper blinked. He'd expect a nightmare to be less… colorful. At least this time, he knew it was a dream, though it wasn't exactly hard to determine. The sky looked like a thousand rolling fields, and the ground like a granite rock face. He got up off the ground and surveyed his surroundings.

All he could see for miles was endless rock, spread out like desert dunes. Like in the dream he had had a couple of nights before, there didn't seem to be any light source except the brilliant sky. It even looked as though it were flowing, like wheat in a humid wind.

He stared about. There didn't seem to be anything wrong in this dream. The rock was smooth, and didn't look all that dangerous, and there were no threats in sight. Despite this, he felt anything but relaxed. It felt as though he could be killed at any moment.

After a few anxious paces, the boy sat down and glared up at the sky. "What? What do you want with me? If I'm going to get poisoned or squished or see Wendy dying or something, then just do it now!"

Nothing happened. Dipper grumbled to himself, glaring about. If this was his dream, then to put it bluntly, it sucked. He got back up and started to walk around in a circle, trying to find anything besides the flowing sky and the rocky horizon. Apart from a few particles of dust that clung to his shins and the few pebbles on the ground, there was nothing. The young detective bent down and picked one up, throwing it as far up as he could.

The pebble seemed to catch in some sort of wind as soon as it reached the apex of the throw, disappearing into a haze of gliding green. Dipper squinted in bewilderment. That didn't normally happen, he was sure of it.

Suddenly, he felt a sting in his arm. Hissing in discomfort, he slapped at the skin only to find that there was no cause of the pain. The apparently affected spot began to itch, and Dipper felt sweat beginning to bead on his neck. Heat spread from his sting and overwhelmed his vision, shutting out anything and everything. He cried out as hot magma coated his body and filled his lungs, flowing from his arm like a minute volcano.

With a gasp, he awoke. Today seemed to be cloudy, but there was still light filtering in the window. Mabel wasn't in bed. It was morning.

Dipper pulled himself out of his ragged mess of sheets and slumped onto the floor, feeling uncomfortably warm. Sweat slicked the back of his neck and his forehead. With a groan, the boy decided that from now on, he hated, _hated_ realistic dreams.

Pulling on the cleanest shirt he could find as well as his shorts from yesterday, Dipper climbed down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Wendy was sitting next to Mabel, wolfing down her breakfast. Much to Dipper's relief, her face looked completely normal and her eyes less bloodshot. He felt his heart leap a little as she called out in an admittedly-still-raspy voice, "Hey, dude."

He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. A deep red blush appeared on his cheeks, causing Mabel to look up from her cereal and speculate with wonder. "Whoa, Dip, you swallow some hot sauce or something bro?"

Glaring in her direction, he shook his head, mouthing, _I think I lost my voice_. Wendy nodded with understanding and patted the chair next to her, giving Mabel a light tap on the head. Mabel shook out her tangled hair and gave Wendy an indignant look as her brother settled next to the redhead.

"You get any sleep?" Wendy asked after a moment. Dipper nodded and yawned, rubbing his eyes. She smiled. "That's good." He grinned as she tousled his hair.

"So, you think Soos is going to come-" Mabel was cut off as they heard a knock on the back door. Grinning at her own genius, the young artist got up and trotted to the door before pulling it open.

Soos stood on the step, grinning down at her. "'Sup, Pines?"

"Oh, nothing but the ceiling," Mabel answered after a moment of thought. Soos cracked up.

"Dude, that was so funny," he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. Mabel grinned and hopped back towards the kitchen. "So, I like, came over to hang out, but you guys look like you're doing something."

Dipper nodded seriously from the table and watched as his friend and sister sat down. "_Yeah, I was wondering if you got a lead on the whole animal thing_," he mouthed. Mabel squinted at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, lizard's king?" she asked.

Dipper gave her a glare before letting out an annoyed sigh and pulling out a notepad. He held it up for his sister to see. DID YOU FIND OUT ANYTHING ABOUT THE SICKNESS?

Soos appeared confused for a moment before his face fell. "Oh, no, sorry dude," he apologized. "I, uh, kinda just fell asleep yesterday."

NO MAN IT'S FINE, Dipper hastily scrabbled on the notepad before handing the piece of paper over. Soos grew noticeably happier. "Well, heh, that's a relief."

"Maybe it's just a normal virus," Mabel shrugged. She snorted. "You know, like every other sickness ever."

"But it got around town super quick," Wendy reasoned, narrowing her eyes. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Well, maybe it's super airborne," Soos suggested. Dipper wrote something down and held up his notepad. OR SPREAD BY WATER.

"But it can't be spread by water because we didn't drink any from here before you started to get sick," Mabel shut down.

"It could be airborne. I don't see anything wrong with that."

BUT PEOPLE ALL OVER TOWN GOT IT AT DIFFERENT TIMES.

Soos sighed. "Dudes, pretty much everybody already has this virus. Finding out how it's spread really isn't going to help like, anyone. Uh, not to be rude or anything, but maybe we should just give up."

BUT WE HAVE TO FIND OUT, Dipper scribbled furiously. WE CAN'T JUST START AND NOT FINISH.

"He's got a point," Wendy noted uneasily, looking at Dipper. The young detective sighed.

"Hey, bro, I'm curious too," Mabel told him gently. "But, you know, maybe it's ok to just call it a day on this mystery, right? I mean, it's not like the answer is just going to materialize out of nowhere."

Dipper nodded, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. Soos hung his head a bit in embarrassment while Wendy looked mildly guilty. "Yeah, dude, it's ok to give up once in a while," she assured him. The boy just nodded and bit quietly into a piece of toast he had grabbed from the counter.

"Hey, does anybody hear a really irritating noise?"

All three looked up. Soos was looking around the room, blinking in concentration. "Sounds really familiar…"

"It's a mosquito," Wendy pointed out. The group scanned the kitchen, looking for the source of the annoying sound. All of a sudden, there was complete and utter silence. Dipper was frozen, a look of deep cogitation on his face, while Mabel was glancing up towards the rafters. Wendy was scratching her arm out of habit and pulling back her sleeve. Soos lifted his head and took off his cap.

"I think it's gone," Mabel whispered.

Soos nodded, seemingly unwilling to break the sudden silence. He squinted before shocking the other three with a loud yelp. "Ah! I've been bitten! I'm infected!"

At the same time, Dipper jumped to his feet, letting out a raspy whisper. "That's it!"

"What is?" Mabel asked.

"The mosquito," he croaked. "That's… that's what's transmitting the sickness!"

All three were silent. Slowly, a look of pure realization dawned on Wendy's face. "You might actually be right," she murmured.

"It all adds up," he whispered. "Everyone getting sick at the same time and everyone getting bitten. Nothing else making sense." He grinned. "We were right."

There was quiet in the room before Soos spoke. "I got a mosquito bite before I got sick."

"I got one on my arm," Wendy volunteered. "Hey, and weren't you scratching like crazy after you got here?"

Dipper let a laugh of pure triumph. "We found it!" he breathed.

"Found what?"

All four stopped their celebrating and slowly looked over to the entrance of the kitchen. Stan stood there, eyes bloodshot, face sunken and still in his grimy, disgusting nightclothes. He rubbed his nose and glared at them all, breaking off to cough.

"That's it. Soos, you run the Shack. I'm going back to bed."

* * *

**A/N: And that was the pointless end to a pointless story! Sorry if it was a bit short, but I'm actually working on another story right now that I might have mentioned last time. The prologue is almost done, and should be posted next week. **

**To everyone who has stuck with me until now, thank you! I get the feeling you're really going to like what I'm writing now… Unless you can't handle angsty scenes towards the beginning. Yep. That's going to be a handicap. Until then, peace out, and feel free to leave a review!**


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